Kill Me
by Cannibalistic Oreos
Summary: Yami no Malik has no interest in sleeping one night on the Kaiba Corp. blimp, so, with his knife in hand, he heads out in a search for fun. The mission lands him in Yami no Bakura's grasp, both fighting to kill the other. -- Psychoshipping; Slight Vio/Yao


Malik knew what he was going to do. He was bored, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He clutched his Millennium Rod in his fingers, grinning wildly as he stalked through the halls. It didn't take him long to reach the door was he was looking for. His finger slowly extended forward and slipped into the button, allowing the door to slide open with a sigh. His eyes scanned the darkness of the room, his shadow looming across the floor.

Finally, his eyes met with the figure and his grin grew. There he was; the innocent little Ryou Bakura. Malik had nothing against the hikari, sleeping soundly in his bed, but he did have a beef to pick with his yami. The darkness in Bakura may have been rather powerless, but he was a threat. He was a threat that needed to be eliminated. And Malik was prepared to eliminate that threat completely, even if he had to murder the innocence to get there. So long as the yami had no body to reside in, he would be stuck in the Millennium Ring until someone was stupid enough to pick it up. But as long as Malik kept the ring around his neck, that wouldn't happen.

He slowly stepped further into the room, holding the Rod up and wrapping his free hand around the sheath. His grin grew ear-to-ear as he reached the bed, looking down at the figure, clueless and naive. His wrist turned and the sheath unlocked, allowing him to slowly tug the blade free.

Bakura's eyes shot open at the noise, his hair flying upwards. He rolled on his side, his eyes widening when he saw Marik's yami front of him. His eyes were murderous, piercing right through Bakura's. And even though both men were well aware of the presence of the other, Malik never froze. His arm extended, the knife now next to the vein of Bakura's neck.

"Good," Malik began mockingly, throwing his head back with a _crack._ "Now you can watch the pleasure on my face as I kill you." Despite saying this, his knife didn't move. Bakura figured he wanted to prolong the suffering as much as he could. Bakura grabbed his wrist and threw it to the foot of the bed, taking Malik along with it, all in the span of three seconds. By the time Malik's face fell in confusion, Bakura's foot was stabbing through his abdomen, forcing the yami to the floor.

"Sorry, the only way you're going to kill me is if I'm already dead," Bakura insisted, pushing to his feet. "It's an endless chain of failures for you." Malik let out a chesty laugh, his shoulders bouncing. He pushed himself to his feet as well, widening his stance as he stood across from Bakura, facing him with an impatient stare.

"That sounds like fun. Care to back up your words?" Malik pushed back a bit of his hair, resting his other hand on his hip and leaning away from it. He patted a bit of dirt from his shoulder and looked up at Bakura, letting a grin slip across his jaw. Bakura sneered back, clenching his fists.

"Oh, gladly. You're not the only one with a knife on you, Malik." His hand slipped into his pocket and clenched around his pocket knife. He tugged it out and pressed his thumb against the switch button, the blade flipping out and into position. "It'll be fun slicing you open."

"I guess Marik never meant that much to you," Malik said with a shrug in an attempt to psych the other yami. But Bakura didn't budge. He only grinned, admiring his blade as he turned his wrists, the light and reflection shifting around.

"Oh, please, Malik. The only reason I even stay around him is the fact that I've been promised that Millennium item of yours." His eyes shifted back to Malik, a new fire burning past them. "But killing you would make it much easier to obtain."

"Then kill me, Bakura," Malik instructed eagerly, his irises shrinking with insanity.

"Don't mind if I do!" he shouted in response, bringing his knife in front of him. He held the blade outwards as he charged forward. Malik stood still, closing his eyes and laughing. Bakura's grin grew as he reached him. Just as the blade was about to hit Malik, he stepped out of the way and to the side of Bakura, extending an arm and wrapping his finger's around his wrist.

He tugged his arm back, pulling Bakura's arm behind his body. His arm trembled to be freed, his knife clenched tightly in his fists. Bakura clasped his teeth, pulling forward his shoulders to try and break free.

"And here I thought you were going to be a worthy opponent," Malik teased. His thumb pressed sharply into Bakura's wrist, forcing his fingers to uncoil and the knife to slip from his grip. It hit the floor with a light_ twang_.

Bakura continued to tremble. One of his arms was held behind his arm in an uncomfortable and awkward position. He now had no weapon, and Malik was standing behind him, armed and prepared. Malik slowly leaned forward and wrapped one arm around Bakura`s shoulders. Bakura gulped as the blade of the Millennium Rod pressed against his neck. Malik grinned, holding his head against Bakura's and breathing with a mocking pace right next to his ear.

Bakura began to pant, but tried to keep his mind off of it and grinned, as well. Had Malik honestly forgotten about his other arm? "Trust me, I am," Bakura refuted. He quickly lifted his free arm, slipping it in the space between his shoulder and Malik's forearm, wrapping tightly around his arm and pushing it downwards and to the left, causing Malik's body to fly forwards and around Bakura's body. As he crossed in front of him, Bakura lifted both arms and, along with the bending of his knees, threw two fists into Malik's spinal cord.

Malik fell to the floor, his face smacking against it. The blood slipped through his throat and up into his nose. Bakura quickly threw a leg over him and dropped down, pinning the Egyptian underneath his hips. Malik's hand clenched around his knife, still grinning as his blood pooled under his face.

"Good move," he said with a smirk. He noisily sucked the blood from his nose, letting it pool in the back of his throat. He pushed up from the floor, taking Bakura along with him. Before he hit back down, he pushed off it with his arm and flipped, landing on his knees over Bakura who was now on his back, three feet away from his only weapon.

"But apparently not good enough," Bakura seethed. He tried to keep his arms to his side, but Malik quickly pinned him down on his hips before slipping his hands around Bakura's wrists and pushing his arms upwards. Bakura growled a bit at the involuntary pain. Malik hung his head over Bakura's, letting the blood he had collected slowly seep from his lips.

Bakura closed his eye as the blood fell to his face and seeped along his cheek bone. His lips extended across his face in a growl and he gave his opponent a glare through his available eye. Malik grinned and licked his lips.

"What's wrong, Bakura? I was under the impression to liked blood." Marik bent down a bit. Bakura opened his eyes again, his wrists wriggling from under Malik's grip.

"I do. And I like it even better when I'm the reason it's being spilled," he answered. Malik pushed Bakura's wrists together and held them both under one hand, bringing his knife up again and pushing it against Bakura's neck.

"Funny, I love that, too. We have a lot in common. I'll love spilling your blood." Malik's arm began to slip across, but Bakura quickly interjected, breaking a hand free and shoving Malik to the side. He quickly rolled over him and held him down by the shoulders. The Millennium Rod slid across the floor. Both boys were panting now, their hearts racing.

"Not on my watch," Bakura began between breaths, his confidence faltering, "Malik." His lips trembled in a snarl and his body fell downwards towards his adversary. His teeth clenched as Malik's mouth spread in a sneer.

"I don't need your permission to kill you," Malik refuted, lifting his arms. They wrapped around Bakura's upper arms and pulled him downwards. Their noses touched briefly, causing Bakura to growl more. His face heated reluctantly and his eyes narrowed. "At least you were worth the fight."

"Yeah, you were, too," Bakura agreed. Without even noticing, his eyes flashed from Malik's eyes to his lips, and his tongue shot out and ran across his own. "It would have been nice to succeed in killing you."

"Likewise," Malik responded, his eyes thinning. The look behind them quickly turned from murderous to full of desire. His pupils faded as his irises grew under his eye lids. "Although, any sense of making you squirm would be just as well."

All that could be heard was the rumble of the aircraft's engine. Bakura stared down at Malik, his breath still quickened in a light pant. Malik grinned upwards and tugged Bakura downwards again, still gripping tightly on his upper arms. Bakura's eyes shot open as his lips locked against Malik's, almost as surprised as he was disgusted. He tried to tug off, but the Egyptian wouldn't budge, his grip tightening to the point it was painful.

Malik moved one arm, wrapping his hand around the back of Bakura's neck, tugging it even closer. Bakura attempted still to pull apart from him, but there was still no chance. He unlocked his knees, allowing his hips to crash down on his foe's. Malik finally let him go, and Bakura sat up on his knees, his arms holding him up against the dark abdomen. Bakura tried to give Malik a sickened glare, but it faded into one of pure humiliation when the Egyptian was simply licking his lips in satisfaction and giving Bakura a simple 'want anymore' look.

"This is boring now," Malik said flatly, his grin fading. "Get off. I won't kill you today." Bakura's lips trembled in a snarl and he threw his head up, his eyes piercing through Malik's with an angry determination.

"You're not done until I've killed you," Bakura insisted. He threw his hands into Malik's chest, gripping at his shirt and tugging his torso upwards. Malik let out a cry from the spontaneous pain but was muffled by Bakura's harsh and angry lips. With the lick of Bakura's lips, Malik threw himself forward and over, landing on top of Bakura and forcing his tongue inside his mouth.

Bakura's arms flew upwards and slipped around Malik's neck, stretching behind him as far as he could to pull Malik's tongue further and further inside. Bakura, too, slipped his tongue between Malik's lips, both fighting for their dominance. Malik was the first to lift an arm and slip his hand under Bakura's over shirt. He pushed it upwards, forcing it to slip over his shoulder. Bakura was more than willing to lift his shoulder from the ground, allowed the fabric to fall behind him.

Their lips disconnected for a moment, a long string of saliva keeping them linked. Malik's tongue ran across his lips as he sat up over Bakura's hips and tugged off his robe. He grinned again, his eyes widening murderously. Bakura tugged his shirt completely off and threw it to the side. Malik's robe soon followed, landing on top of it.

"Done yet?" Malik started, slipping a hand under Bakura's shirt. Bakura grinned, sitting upwards slightly and wrapping his hands under and around Malik's sleeves, tugging the article up and over his head.

"Are you dead yet?" Bakura snapped in response, throwing the shirt in the pile they had created. His eyes wandered over Malik's bare chest. He was slightly tempted to feel it, but decided against it in favour for looking.

Malik threw his body back down, his hand traveling further up Bakura's shirt as their tongue reconnected outside their mouths. Bakura lifted his arms over his head, letting Malik free his body from the article. It, too, joined the pile on the floor. Malik however saw no problem with letting his hand cross over Bakura's chest times over. Bakura's lips trembled slightly in pleasure, but the feeling subsided for desire. He threw his hands against Malik's chest, pushing him back over to be on top once again, only letting their tongues separate for a second.

"Ready to die now?" Bakura teased through the kiss. He was expecting a stupid remark about his inferiority, but instead received an eager grin.

"Kill me."


End file.
